Prince Of Wolves
by fantasylover53
Summary: Chapter 23: Charles enters James's mind to find the source of his mysterious illness, but what he finds threatens to put James's very mental state on the verge of breaking apart. AU RoLo
1. Prologue

This story is an AU, and I thought I'd clear a few things up before posting Chapter One. In this, all the X-Men are teenagers, with some obvious differences to behaviour and looks in some. Hopefully all loose ends will be tied up by the end of the story, and anything no one understands will be cleared up in the story itself.

Main pairing is RoLo and possibly some Jott.

(And there will be some supernatural aspects of the story and maybe a crossover near the end... not sure yet.

Please read and review! Cookies for all who review and rotten eggs thrown in your face for flames!

The tree branches whipped past his face, their jagged edges tearing his clothes as his bare feet- the shoes long since lost when the chase began- moved over dead leaves and leaped over logs. Chest heaving, the teenaged boy slowed his pace, tangled dark brown hair whipping past his face as he swung his head around to look after his pursuer. There was no one there.

Legs trembling, he bent his knees, resting his arms against his knees, sucking up lungfuls of air. Straightening up after a moment, he eased himself up, nearing the point of exhaustion, and tiredly observed the small clearing. There was no sign of the creature- the thing, for that was only what it could be described as- anywhere.

But that didn't mean it wasn't there, no, he'd learnt that lesson. Hissing slightly in pain, he dizzily peeled back the torn sleeve of the shirt, wincing as sticky blood made it harder. Growing impatient, he yanked it back, barely suppressing a scream as he flung the torn sleeve to the ground. The blood started to run down his arm once again.

_Maybe that wasn't such a good idea..._ he thought idly, as his vision swam and he fell to his knees.

Then came the growl.

Dizziness forgotten in a flash, the fight or flight instinct awoken within him, he was on his legs again, wide hazel-green eyes scanning the night time surroundings. Keen hearing and eyesight afforded him the honour of being able to see the beast before him. Letting out a gasp of terror, he turned on his heel and sprinted.

The branches nicked at his clothes, slapping his bleeding arm, pulling away with blood trails on them, leaving an easy trail for the thing to follow. Leaping agilely over a fallen tree branch, he landed heavily on his arm as his foot caught on a outlying piece of bark. Wincing, even as his vision blurred and the world grew darker, he painfully coughed up tiny flecks of blood.

A cool breeze tainted with the scent of evil blew his way, and with a shake of his head, the blurriness faded to the edges of his vision. When his vision cleared, he couldn't stop the yelp that tore from his throat.

Foul smelling breaths wafted over his face from over a metre away, vomit rising in the back of his throat, even as the thing growled menacingly, leaping off the branch, teeth bared.

Someone screamed something, but their words were lost to his ears as terror seized his senses. Closing his eyes as the snarl grew louder, he bit his lip tightly, drawing blood.

_Oh please let it be quick... Be quick..._

A pained yelp replaced the growl, and a sudden, blindingly yellow and orange light filled his vision- from behind closed eyelids. Half-gasping for breath, he was unable to stop the darkness following the "fire."

He fell backwards onto soft flooring, eyelids fluttering closed, his last image that of a cream painted wall and terrified shrieking.

XXX

Jean Grey sprinted through the forest, her bright green eyes wide with fear as she raced in the direction the boy had gone in, chased by the thing that had transformed under the moon's light. Oh god, she really hadn't meant to.

It had been a dare- try out your mutant powers and see where you end up. Jean, unknowing of the risks, had volunteered to complete said dare, and had- **somehow**- ended up in the middle of a forest at night time, with a teenaged boy and a monstrous creature who was intent of killing said boy.

Pushing her legs harder, she scrambled over a tree branch, catching a glimpse of a running figure a few trees to her left. Panting, her eyes followed the boy, taking in his bleeding arm, highlighted by the moon's glowing light, and his heaving breaths. Watching him, she slowed to a jog, eyes growing wide as his foot caught on an outlying tree limb. She could only watch in horror as he landed on his wounded arm, and the creature stared him down. From the distance she was away, she couldn't see his eyes, but she guessed that he was scared shitless.

She would have been too if a thing was breathing in your face.

With a growl she heard from over three metres away, the thing lunged.

"NO!" she screamed.

Unable to stop herself, and hardly aware of what she was doing, she flung her hand out, the air around her glowing red, orange and yellow, and the thing was flung into a tree.

Closing her eyes as the "flames" intensified, she fell to the ground.

Only she fell onto soft carpet, opening her eyes to see the thing against the far wall, her fellow students fleeing in all directions and the boy lying unconscious on the floor, eyelids slowly closing.

XXX

"I told you Professor," she murmured, clutching the blanket around her shoulders, "I don't know what happened. One minute I was here, and the next it was night time in the middle of a forest with a... a thing. And the boy. He was there as well."

"Do you know his name Jean?" Charles Xavier asked, and the young girl raised her green eyes to meet calm blue.

"No... It was going to kill him Professor... I had to do something..."

"You did the right thing Jean," Xavier muttered soothingly, "go and get some food, and rest. Ororo and Scott will look after you."

A small smile gracing her lips, Jean nodded, shuffling out the med lab doors, only to pause and look back at him. "I-Is he okay?" she asked quietly.

Xavier nodded.

As the girl left, his calm look was replaced by an anxious one, and it was wearing this look that he entered the operating theatre. "How is the boy, Henry?"

Dr. Henry McCoy looked up from his work- stitching the unconscious boy's wound together, with a grim nod. "He had internal bleeding, and whatever was chasing them managed to shatter a few ribs. He's probably got concussion, and his arm, which I'm stitching now, is going to need a sling. Aside from that, just scrapes, cuts and a fair few bruises."

"He's going to survive then?" Charles questioned, directing his chair forward to examine the boy's pale face and somewhat laboured breathing.

"He'll be fine in a few weeks I should imagine. Any luck on finding out how Jean brought him here?"

Xavier grimaced. "Her powers somehow seem to have transported her to another location, and in saving his life, she brought him back as well. Is his DNA on any file?"

"No, I'm afraid. It doesn't have a match on any database anywhere I could check."

"How long till he awakes?"

Beast sighed, placing a pair of scissors on the small table beside him and shrugging off his lab coat. "He's sedated for now, but within a few hours I think he'll wake. Are you staying here or returning upstairs with me?"

"I'll stay, keep an eye on him." Xavier smiled at the blue-furred mutant. "Go and get some rest Hank."

As Beast left, he directed his chair to the front of the boy's bed, preparing to read his mind.

_Now let's see who you are..._


	2. Darkness and Light

Here's the first chapter! To all who read- enjoy!

XXX

Dark storm clouds, terrifying in their strength and beauty, were the background for his mindscape. Each flash of silent, white lightning highlighted the dark shape that seemed to be, from a distance, a nineteenth century mansion, with high, vaulting windows and wide double doors.

Doors that were thrown wide open.

Treading quietly through the sedated boy's mind, Charles Xavier studiously examined his mental surroundings.

Long grass swept past his his legs, and above him the storm raged, yet rain or lightning never once touched ground. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the grey and black clouds, subconsciously making note of them in terms of the boy's personality.

_Violent... yet strangely compelling._

Tearing his eyes away from the spectacular sight, he continued walking, splashing through a small stream and spying in the distance what appeared to be a pack of wolves.

_Shares a kinship with the wolf..._

The grassland, or forest as it may have been, continued on for a good while, and Xavier frowned in confusion when the mansion still seemed a good few mental miles away.

_Powerful mental blocks adeptly used... How did he learn this?_

Shaking his head, he willed himself to be near the mansion. When he opened his eyes, he was only halfway.

_**Very** powerful mental shields..._

Closing his eyes once more, he gently forced his way through the invisible resistance he felt separating him from the mansion- and the boy's identity.

XXX

Appearing inside the mansion was surprisingly easy, and Charles felt a chill race up his spine as he thought of possible reasons why a fifteen year old boy had so many powerful blocks protecting his core consciousness.

The hall that he was standing in was pitch black, the space where the front doors should have been nothing but a white void. Slate flooring was visible from the white light, yet at the point where the light faded, he could dimly make out a shadow on the ground. A silhouette of a man.

Choosing to ignore the rather interesting piece of information for now, Xavier walked forward into the darkness, picking his way forward carefully. Then the feeling of being watched, **studied**, which had been growing since entering his mind, intensified.

Looking up, up past the sweeping stairway, he caught a glimpse of a pair of gold, slitted wolf's eyes. As soon as his eyes made contact, the other set blinked, and faded into the darkness.

_Feral?_

Suddenly finding himself on the stairs, he blinked and looked down into a black, spiralling depth of darkness. Darkness that was slowly creeping up the stairs. Concerned and a little afraid, he ascended the stairs. The owner of the wolf's eyes were nowhere to be seen, and another white doorway occupied the doorway into a room.

Taking a step forward, he tried to enter, only to find his path blocked by a forcefield of some kind. Forced to stare into the light, narrowing his eyes against the glare, he reached out to identify the source.

From within the light, a faint shadow moved, and muted whispers flowed out of the doorway, whispers in a multitude of tones, growled, laughed. None of the voices were human.

So caught up in trying to identify the mysterious voices, he started when he felt something grasp his consciousness. Turning on the spot, he couldn't resist the surprised gasp that tore from his mouth.

The darkness was a seething sea-like mass lapping at his feet, growls and snarls echoing from it's depths.

_Dark and dark trying to take over... the light **defending** something...but what?_

Then came the agonizing bolt of pain, and he yanked his consciousness out of the boy's mind panting.

Only to blink open his eyes to find his own eyes greeted by a pair of wide hazel-green.


	3. Whole New Breed of Trouble

I'm on a roll today! At the rate my imagination wheels spinning, I feel like I could write three more chapters! XD Though I'll need to make them longer... Please! Tell me what you think! Also, I'm open to ideas about where to direct the story...

XXX

They were engaged in a staring competition, neither willing to give up the position of "dominance" over the other that would lead to their downfall. In the end, the only thing that meant Charles won was the drugs in the boy's system.

Hazel-green eyes closed momentarily, then opened after a second. But the advantage was lost- the elder had won.

Charles, for his part, studied the boy on the bed as he gingerly, slowly, bent his arm to support his weight. Just filling into adulthood- a little on the thin side, maybe. Dark brown hair that gleamed a lighter brown in the light was scruffy around his face. But his eyes were the most striking feature about him.

"No," Charles ordered gently, reaching out a hand to halt the boy's progress, "stay still. Your wounded."

The boy frowned in confusion, before slowly settling once again onto the bed as Charles pressed the button to call Hank. "W-Where am I?" he asked quietly.

The boy's accent was, at first indistinguishable, but after a second Charles deemed it English. "Westchester, New York. You're at my school."

"School?"

Charles nodded, eyes lingering on the boy's confused face. "Where were you before?"

"Alberta," his charge said slowly, and Xavier's assumption that he had an English accent flew out the window with the revelation of where he'd come from, "Canada."

"Can you tell me how you got here?"

"I... was running," he said, frowning as he tried to remember, "running from that thing... There was... fire? And then..." His eyes wandered the room, confusion intensifying. "Where **am **I?"

"I promise I'll explain everything later," Xavier said as Hank walked in, looking tired but smiling happily all the same, "for now, Dr. McCoy just needs to run some tests."

XXX

"You... you don't look like a Doctor," the boy stated, staring at Hank intensely as he removed the needle carefully, "aren't they supposed to wear... cloths?"

Hank stopped what he was doing and raised his eyes at the boy. "What century are you from young man?" he joked. "That was last century."

The boy's frown betrayed his confusion, but he looked away as Hank cleared the rest of the equipment away and remained silent.

Hank, armed with notepad and pencil, pulled up a seat opposite his patient, who was still eyeing him so intensely it was like being x-rayed.

"Now," he began, "this is just to check if your concussion affected your memory, all right?" At the boy's nod, he continued. "What's your name?"

"James,' the boy said, "James Logan Howlett."

"And how old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"What's the year?"

James frowned once again- Hank was beginning to get the impression that he frowned or scowled more often than not. "But everyone knows that."

"Just answer the question."

James rolled his eyes, and Hank decided that this boy was going to be trouble there and then.

"It's 1850."

The pencil fell from his hand with a small clink on the metal floor as his shocked blue eyes studied irritated hazel-green for any indication of a lie.

_Oh yes, _he thought, as he saw none and James began to examine the IV connected to his hand with the first true interest he'd shown since the sedative had worn off, _he's a **whole new breed**__ of trouble._


	4. Ice Cream and Calcuators

4th chapter up!

XXX

James Howlett stared curiously at the... thing he was currently examining, trying to figure out what all the numbers meant. He was by no means dumb, in fact he was quite intelligent, but this thing had him completely stumped.

From the direction of the hall, he heard the hiss of a sliding door, a sound he'd once associated with snakes, and now with doors, and tensed, spinning on his heels to stare accusingly at the door as if he was about to bite him.

A moment later, it slid open, and the self-proclaimed "doctor" entered.

When he'd first woken up, groggy with a spinning head and tired eyes, and seen the "doctor" for the first time, James recalled seriously doubting if that thing had actually killed him. No variety of doctor he'd ever needed to see- and never needed to see again, thanks to his healing ability- had blue... fur, fangs or wore a coat like **that**.

James himself was dressed in the clothes they'd given him- some type of cotton pants- and a spare shirt that was one size too large to properly fit him. Since he'd arrived with no shoes, and had unable to provide a size for them to supply a pair for him, he was barefoot- and he'd found the floor to be cold.

'Oh! James!' the "doctor" grinned at him, making James draw his own lips back in a silent warning snarl- he was thankful to notice that the "doctor's" grin faltered. 'Already up, are we?'

'I felt fine,' James forced out, eyeing him irritably as he walked forward, 'so I got off the... bed.'

'I suppose that's fine,' Hank, if James recalled correctly, said, 'and anyway, it seems to be that you're healthy anyway. Charles organised a room for you upstairs while you were asleep. If you would follow me?'

Silently padding out into the metal hallway, James blinked at the shiny interior. 'Are you sure this is a school?' he asked suspiciously, trailing his finger tips over the wall and finding it cool to touch. 'And not that you're all some...'

'Some what?'

'Never mind,' he mumbled, fixing his stare onto the floor below him and following him sullenly.

_Where the bloody hell is Victor?_

XXX

Ororo Munroe's secret crush was waiting for her.

Licking her lips, she perched on the stool at the kitchen bench, peeling with infinite tenderness the lid off the chocolate chip ice cream, armed with spoon in hand. The lid peeled off, and with a delighted grin she drove the spoon into the mixture.

Lifting it up, she allowed the ice cream to melt in her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure as it melted.

_There's no substitute for this... _she thought, _not even at home..._

The pleasure of melting ice cream dulled by the painful thought of Africa and her parents, she lowered the spoon into the tub once again, determined to forget all the upsetting thoughts. She knew that it was pointless, but she couldn't stop herself from trying.

'And this is the kitchen,' Dr. McCoy's voice- he taught science and maths and succeeded mainly in boring all his students to sleep- drifted in through the door, 'you'll find all your major kitchen appliances in there.'

_New student? In the middle of term? Wait... it's probably the boy Jean brought back. Goddess, that was freaky._

'Now James, would you like something to eat?'

'I guess,' a sullen voice replied, and their footsteps got louder.

Panicking, she hurriedly threw her spoon in the sink, grabbing the lid and placing it on the tub before opening the freezer and pushing it to the back of the freezer. If anyone found out about her secret stash...

She closed the freezer just as the two entered- and when she turned around her brain stopped working.

The boy standing in the doorway was **hot**. Hot in big, bold capital letters. Dark brown hair framed his face, and hazel-green eyes stared at her in return as she stared into his.

_Holy Goddess..._

Through the haze, she wondered vaguely if she'd placed the lid on the ice cream properly.


	5. Discussions and Homesickness

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I aim to please! And besides, frankly I'm amazed that I've even reached three chapters- my stories usually mean about whole pages of writing that's continuous! With that- here's chapter 4!

XXX

"You didn't tell me that he was gorgeous," Ororo Munroe said reproachfully, as she slung her bag over the back of her chair and sat down on the hard plastic in the cafeteria area, opposite her best friend Jean, who had her nose in a book.

"Huh?" Jean asked, raising her head and looking Ororo in the eye. "Who?"

"That boy," Ororo said, rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the way her heart started pounding in her chest at the mere thought of him, "James, his name is. He's cute." Jean obviously hadn't heard her say "gorgeous" and she wasn't about to repeat it.

"He's awake?" Jean asked, brightening up, some of the guilt leaking away from her eyes. "Is he okay?"

"Well," the African said dryly, "when I saw him in the kitchen doorway last night, he seemed healthy."

"Last night- why was he out of the infirmary last night?" The red head was shocked. "Are you sure he's okay?"

"I'm going off looks here Jean, it's not like I read his whole medical report."

"Sorry,' Jean said abashedly, "it's just that... I... I feel so **guilty** at having dragged him here."

Ororo waved her hand at her friend, pushing all thoughts of James(rather unsuccessfully) to the back of her mind. "What're you reading?" As Jean held up the cover, Ororo cocked her head to the right at the title. "Why in the name of the Goddess are you reading about _**werewolves**_?"

"I... guess I just had to know what that thing was," the red head admitted after a moments silence. "Y'know, to get the suspicion out of my head." She cracked a small grin. "After reading this I wish I hadn't."

Shaking her head, Ororo took the book out of her friend's hands and placed it cover down on the table. "Now,' she clapped her hands, "back to business. Why didn't you tell me that guy was so cute?"

XXX

It was the sunlight streaming in through half-closed curtains that woke James the next morning. Grumbling, he opened his eyes, fully expecting to find himself in a small wooden cabin, with scratchy blankets, a lumpy mattress and chilly temperatures from the cold Canadian wind.

When his eyes adjusted, that wasn't what he found.

The mattress he rested on was soft, comfy, the pillow most definitely not stuffed with feathers. The floor, instead of hard wooden floorboards, was soft carpet, and the furniture wasn't created roughly out of chopped down wood from a forest right outside to front door.

James suddenly felt, as he looked around him, the ache that was homesickness. Never mind the fact that it was a mining town, where you worked for your keep- it was all he'd known for the past two years. This- this place was definitely not a mining town.

Shrugging off the nightmare that had plagued his sleep and the homesickness, he slid out of the comfortable single bed, his toes digging into the plush carpet beneath him.

_This place reminds me of ho- the mansion. Don't see any candles though._

Padding into the bathroom, he looked around for something to turn the light on, and saw a small switch on the side. Cocking his head to the right, he flicked it, and immediately shielded his eyes against the bright light above him flaring to life. With a scowl, he turned the switch off again, and when his eyes had adjusted accordingly, got to work with what he would normally do- only to find the environment utterly compressing, fuelling the homesickness.

Sighing, he cast his eyes downwards, seeking out the grooves in the cold floor beneath his feet.

_This isn't... home._

_Where is "home" anyway?_


	6. Something in the Air

Had a bit of writer's block recently... but hopefully I'll be over it soon.

* * *

James pushed the fork into the omelette, twirling it around on the metal object for fun, as he and a couple of other students sat in the kitchen that morning, a tense silence their companion. The girl from before- the one with the stunning white hair and cerulean blue eyes with a mocha coloured complexion was nowhere to be seen.

"So," one of the boys sitting next to him spoke up, "your names James right?"

Raising his hazel-green eyes to meet the ice blue of the blonde boy who'd spoken, James gave a single nod.

"Where are you from then?" he continued. "I mean, the way Jean brought you back here was..."

James immediately trained his hyper-active senses on the name Jean, wincing a little as sensitive hearing was bombarded with sounds of the mansion. "Jean?"

"Yeah, Jean," another boy- one with brown hair and red glasses over his eyes said. "She's my girlfriend. And the one who brought you here. She's been worried by the way, said to see how you were going if I saw you." He gave a lopsided grin. "Guess she feels guilty."

James cast his mind back to when he'd arrived here. The images were blurred, and he could barely make anything out aside from pain in his arm and chest. "How long ago was that?"

"What, since you got here?" the boy frowned, and James tuned his senses down as far as he could as the smells of the kitchen assaulted his nose. "Uh, I'd say-"

"About two days ago," a relieved voice sounded, and all four boys at the table turned to look at the doorway.

Her red hair was a vibrant colour, and her green eyes sparkled with relief when they landed on James. "I'm glad to see you're awake," she said smiling, "I'm Jean by the way."

_Rose..._

Barely containing the anguish he felt at the memory of holding a red haired, green eyed, _**dead** _girl in his arms, James managed a small smile- barely a twitch of his lips. Jean's smile faltered, then returned as she turned to the other boy and started talking.

James didn't hear their words. He was too caught up in the memory of his senses, the blind rage that had taken control, and of Rose screaming his name, holding her in his arms, dead...

Blinking himself out of his stupor, he swallowed, tasting blood on his tongue, and he gingerly ran his tongue over his gum. Wincing at the stabbing pain as his tooth moved, he quietly hissed.

He couldn't take this anymore.

Standing up, he threw his fork onto the plate, and without a seconds thought, sprinted outside, heading for the forest he knew by scent was there.

A pair of cerulean blue eyes watched him leave.

XXX

"Are you saying this boy is a feral?" Professor Charles Xavier questioned Hank McCoy in his office at the same time as James sprinted outside.

"Yes," Beast confirmed, placing a manilla folder on the table between them, "but his mutation is still developing. It seems he has not yet fully experienced the physical changes that come as part of the package being a feral mutant." He sighed, running a hand absently through blue fur at the back of his neck. "And hopefully he never will."

"Hank, you do realise that he is going to need something to help control his senses? If he has limited control over such things as you seem to thing, you would be best qualified to help him."

"I can only try," Hank sighed, "that is, if he accepts my help. We have our work cut out for us."

"That we- ARGH!"

"Charles!" Beast was at his mentor's side in an instant. "Charles, what's wrong?"

"It's James," Xavier gasped, "something is happening with James."

XXX

Ororo Munroe watched the boy she'd secretly been fantasising about leave the kitchen in silence, even though the others barely noticed. He was different, was a child of nature, just like her, she could feel it. The Goddess, it seemed, had more than elemental children.

"Ororo."

Blinking even as the image of his eyes entered her head- light brown blending into a stunning leaf green- she turned her attention, complete with fake smile, onto the the boy who'd just spoken her name. "Forge."

The Cheyenne boy shifted in his seat, dark eyes noting the falseness of her smile, the dismissal in her eyes. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you... in, well, private."

"Maybe later," the girl of his dreams murmured, blue eyes drifting towards the window again, as though she'd sensed something no one else could.

"Ah, right then." The Cheyenne fought back the groan of disappointment her refusal cut into his pride. He liked her! She should be happy! After all, he hadn't shown attention to anyone else in the mansion like her, and in his opinion at least, there was a long line of girls waiting for him.

Ororo, oblivious to the boy's disappointment and the sniggers around her at the rebuttal, was concentrated on the window. As she frowned, the wind outside picked up subtly, telling her all she needed to know. The breeze was scented with something tangy, wild, untamed. Something that left a remnant of an impression of cold winter wind and clean, fresh air.

Something was wrong.


	7. Forest Encounters and Revelations

Thanks to all who reviewed and added this to their fave stories!

* * *

Ororo landed with a rather inelegant thump onto prickly leaves, scowling angrily at the offending fallen items of the tree above her. She was in the forest- and she honestly couldn't tell herself why she even cared about being there.

Maybe because the Goddess wanted her there?

Musing this to herself as she lightly stepped onto the leaf covered ground, she took a moment to admire the beauty of the place. A small stream wove it's way through the trees, green leaves falling gently onto the already carpeted ground in the breeze that blew through the branches lightly.

Wiping away a strand of pearl white hair from her eyes, Ororo narrowed her eyes as the wind brought along traces of that elusive and somewhat intoxicating smell. The smell of cold winter woods was increasingly growing stronger, though it was now somewhat tainted by the smell of wood.

She wasn't quite sure why.

Picking her way across slippery ground cautiously, she ducked under branches and startled birds as she made her way to the source of the scent.

_I'm sure he went this way... Besides, cold winter wood scent in the middle of summer? Please, it's not possible..._

Biting her lip to quieten her breathing and berating herself for not paying attention to where she was going as a thorny branch dug into her leg, leaving a scratch mark on the mocha skin. "Shit..."

Clapping a hand to her mouth at her unintentional outburst, she stilled as the wind suddenly stopped.

"You know, it's rude to stalk someone."

Raising her eyes, she tilted her head back to look at the teenaged boy sitting in the tree above her. "Uh.. I was..."

"Going for a walk?" Above her, James let out a sort of guttural laugh. "Not likely. I read the rules on the board this morning. "No students permitted in the woods unless with permission or teacher supervision." And you have neither."

"I was following you, yes," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "I mean, you looked like you were in pain in the kitchen and I was..."

"Worried?" The boy shrugged dismissively, and she couldn't help but admire the graceful way he moved as he landed agilely in front of her, cocking his head to the right, her mind travelling in some rather dirty directions...

"Maybe..." she said slowly, yanking her mind away from the "forbidden" thoughts. "Or maybe I wanted to get you back for making me freeze my ice cream solid last night."

He grinned, and she swallowed, his amber-

_Wait a minute. Back up. Amber?_

Her eyes hadn't failed her, his eyes were indeed amber, his pupils slightly dilated. Distantly, as Ororo suddenly felt closed in, like she was being studied, why that was.

"Well," he purred, sounding more than pleased to find her cornered, "I'm-" His words cut off in a strangled gasp, his eyes immediately flickered to hazel-green once again, one hand coming up to grip his jaw.

"James?" she asked cautiously.

His eyes focused on her, and he seemed to jump backwards a little when he noticed her, but he stayed silent.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, walking forward slowly. "You look... a little pale."

James didn't say a word, confusion etched on his face before he slowly nodded. "I-I'm fine," he murmured. "Why are you... where..."

"The Professor can help you," she reasoned, placing a hand lightly on his arm. "Let's go back to the school."

James suddenly let out a low groan that sounded more animal than human, more wolf than man, and keeled over, eyes sliding shut as he visibly paled even more. Ororo, betraying a strength few knew she possessed, caught him.

_PROFESSOR!_

XXX

When James came to again, he saw the same old white ceiling that he had when he'd woken up the first time. His jaw- and eye teeth- still ached fiercely, and his eyelids felt heavy. Through the haze of tiredness, he dimly made the connection between the thing-inserted-into-the-back-of-his-hand and sleepiness.

_Where **am **I **now**? _He thought, annoyed.

A chuckle sounded from above him, and he slowly turned his head to see the old, chair-bound man smiling at him. "James. How are you feeling?"

He frowned at the man, and another chuckle reached his ears. _Why the hell are you **laughing**?_

The chuckling stopped, but the man started to talk again, much to James's annoyance. "You're in the infirmary again young man. Your escapade in the woods tore some stitches- but it looks like you don't need them any more."

"I know," James said boldly, annoyance fuelling his words and the venom behind them. "I heal."

"Yes, it's a remarkable ability to have. Very remarkable indeed. I need to know when it started and if you know what it means you are."

James snorted. "I know what it means. Victor told me."

"Who is Victor?"

"My brother." Hazel-green eyes bored into shocked blue defiantly. "And when he finds out where I am he'll come to find me."

"Is there another name your brother prefers, James? A code-name perhaps?"

James stared at him, internally debating whether or not to tell the old chair-bound man. Victor wouldn't be happy if he did, but if he didn't how else was Victor to find him?

"Yes,' he stated after a minutes debate. 'He likes the name Sabretooth."

* * *

I need your opinion on something- should Logan meet the future version of his brother or shouldn't he? The readers choose this one!


	8. Questions and Theories

"Hey."

Looking up from her book, Ororo found herself lost in the vividness of hazel-green eyes, their owner staring at her with a mixture of nervousness and anxiety in his expression. "Oh," she smiled, "hi."

James slowly took a seat next to her, his eyes tracing the pattern of the carpet. "I-I wanted to apologise for what happened in the woods yesterday," he muttered quietly, "I mean... well..."

"James," she responded, patting his arm, "it's alright. Nothing happened." Her serious look dissipated into a cheeky grin. "Besides, who said I didn't enjoy it. Well some of it at least."

James stared at for approximately half a minute, examining her, before smirking slightly. "You're crazy, you know that? I could have..."

"Could have what? Hurt me? You didn't. Nothing happened, so stop feeling guilty." Ororo dismissed his worries with a wave of her hand. "'Sides, you looked like you were in pain at the end."

"Yeah," James chuckled slightly. "My teeth..."

"What about your teeth?"

"They're well, moving." James shifted in his seat under the intense scrutiny of her gaze. "And it kinda hurts."

"Moving?" Ororo filed the information away at the back of her mind, offering a small smile to him. "I'm sure it's just something to do with your mutation."

She finally got round to closing her book, and shot a sideways look at the silent boy next to her. "Where are you from?"

He blinked at her, surprised, but answered her all the same. "Uh, Canada. You?"

"Africa."

"Africa..." James murmured. "Long way away from my country."

"I'll bet," she muttered, before talking louder again. "So, I still have to get to you back for you effectively freezing my ice cream solid."

"What are you talking about?" James asked her, frowning in confusion.

"Ice cream. Frozen solid. That night in the kitchen." Understanding dawned on James's face. "Yeah, **now** you remember."

They sat in silence for a few minutes- Ororo reflecting on how to get revenge for her ice cream and instead reliving the moment she'd laid eyes on James for the first time and James gathering up the words and courage to ask her something important.

"Well, I, uh," James swallowed, making Ororo look at him abruptly. "I could... um, get you some more? I mean..." Ororo's eyes widened, and James's cheeks coloured slightly with pink. "I mean, I need some more clothes and the... doctor guy said something about a shopping centre? I think that's what he said at least."

Even though the last sentence seemed more to himself than to her, Ororo simply gaped at the boy next to her. "Are you... asking me out... on..."

James jerked his head up, meeting her eyes. "If you wanted to call it that," he murmured quietly, almost shyly.

Ororo forced her mouth shut, then, her mind racing as it tried to process a normal thought, nodded dumbly. "Alright then," she simply said, "next mall outing- you buy me some more ice cream."

* * *

"Are you saying, Charles, that James's brother is _**Sabretooth**_?"

"It seems that way Henry," Xavier said sombrely, "and James isn't lying. I checked his mind while he was sleeping."

"B-But... _**SABRETOOTH!"**_

"Yes," Charles snapped, tiredness and stress making his voice irritable, "Henry, his brother is a known mutant killer who has, apparently, been alive for over a century. But this revelation also means something else."

"What? The fact that- that Sabretooth could come to this school in search of his brother and find him!" Hank yelled, fury and fear making his blue fur stand on end.

"No, Henry," Charles said tiredly, "this means that if Victor Creed survived for over a century, long after he should have died, and he has a healing factor too, then there is every chance that James himself is alive today- _**in our time**_."

* * *

"Why are you eating JJ's Chocolate Chip Ice Cream?"

He grabbed the ice cream tub back from the second man with a faint growl, thinking back to the time when he'd talked with a white haired, blue eyed African and offered to buy her more ice cream. "Jus' feel like it."


	9. Oppotunities and Desires

As they wandered through the mall three days later, Ororo couldn't help but notice that James seemed rather... odd. It was almost as if he'd never seen a shopping centre before.

_Funny, _she thought, _that's how I felt when I came here. _

Shaking off the memory as Jean impatiently tugged on her arm, she turned to face her best friend. "Yeah?"

"We have to go to the clothes store, 'member? Come on, 'Roro."

Ororo blinked slowly, shooting a look back at James, who Professor McCoy was talking to. He looked like he was in shock from her vantage point three metres away. "Sorry Jean," she apologised, not sorry in the least (she already had three bags of clothes to unpack in her wardrobe), "but I can't. I have... an earlier appointment."

Jean's face fell, but before she could protest, Scott intervened. "Jean, 'Roro can catch up to us later- remember our lunch deal?"

The disappointment faded from Jean's face, though Ororo knew her well enough to know that it was lurking under the surface. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Come on Scott."

As the duo left, Ororo shot Scott a grateful look, but he pointed behind her with his elbow. Turning on the spot, she saw James walking towards her. He was still slightly shocked, and Professor McCoy's hand was on his shoulder, but he smiled at her all the same.

"Ororo," McCoy said softly, as he let go of James's shoulder to talk to Ororo. "Could you stay with James for now? This is all... a bit new to him at the moment."

"Sure," she said instantly, grateful for the opportunity to have an excuse to be going to the ice cream parlour with him without anyone talking... hopefully, "I'd be happy to."

"Thank you Ororo," her teacher said with a smile, and left.

But even as Ororo felt stirring excitement, for James he felt another thing entirely. Imagine you only know cold winter, Canadian woods, mining all day and sleeping on lumpy mattresses. Now, imagine you find yourself standing in the middle of a throbbing, pulsating crowd. Imagine the overwhelming feeling of new discoveries around the corner and feral instincts screaming at you to leave. That was how James felt.

But as he looked at Ororo, smiling hesitantly at him, he couldn't help but smile back.

_I made her a promise,_ he thought, _and I'm sure as hell gonna keep it._

Fingering the "money" note in his pocket, he took one last, lingering look at the spinning doors then forced his attention back to his friend. "So," he said, "where's this... ice cream parlour?"

Ororo smiled, and took his hand.

* * *

"No! No! You hit the crocodiles! Yeah! That's it! Whoo! Go James!"

The cheering voice of a teenaged girl reached his ears, followed by the sound of laughter from the arcade, the sounds of a game finished. Taking one more lingering look at the empty ice cream bucket in his hands, he dumped it in the bin, pushing himself with animal-like grace off the pole and strolling through the pulsing crowd.

As he walked past the arcade, he couldn't resist looking in there. What he saw made his heart ache.

Two teenagers- a girl with white hair and blue eyes, and a boy with dark brown hair and hazel-green eyes, were standing at a game, laughing, giving each other high fives. Suddenly, the overwhelming desire to be that young again, discovering the joy of new things to play, hit him so hard he almost staggered.

Swallowing, he pushed his feet forward. With any luck neither Zero or Stryker would find out that he'd been wasting time eating chocolate chip ice cream or longing for things to be different. Heaven help him if Victor found out. He wouldn't hear the end of it for weeks and even then it would probably lead to one of them dying and floor tiles stained red.

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't see you there."

Blinking himself out of his reverie, he looked down to see a brown haired man with blue eyes smiling apologetically at him. The man's watch looked slightly off, and as he inhaled the scent of chemicals filled his nose. McCoy.

With a grunt, he nodded towards the man, forcing down the painful memories to the back of his mind. "It's all right," he murmured, pushing past him.

He was lost to the crowd even as Henry McCoy realised why the tall man with the messy dark brown hair and hazel-green eyes seemed familiar.


	10. Interruptions and Musings

"I had fun today," the goddess-turned-thief-turned-student muttered to her friend, licking the last of the ice cream from her fingers, "better than the previous date I had. **_Way_** better."

"Who'd ya go with?" James asked her, sounding curious as he too ate the last of his ice cream.

"Forge."

"Who?" Curiously confused hazel-green eyes met cerulean blue.

"The Indian boy. 'Sides, it wasn't even a date- more like a," Ororo cleared her throat, ""let's sit down and get to know each other.""

"Did you want to go?"

"Not really," she sighed, "Jean made me. Blackmailed me is more like it. Said I was the only single teen in the mansion and it "really wasn't doing me any good not getting out enough and not having a boyfriend.""

James's knowing eyes assessed her, before his lips lifted up in a small grin. "You're a contradicting person."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. Where I come from, it's you act like you're expected to. If you don't, you get punished or isolated.' He shivered. 'I hated getting paddled."

"Paddled?"

His hand gently smacked her chin sideways. "That."

"Ah," she said, rubbing her cheek as the residue warmth of his touch made her repress a shiver. "Harder than that?"

"Definitely."

"You still haven't explained why I'm a contradicting person yet."

The pair paused in front of a small bench leaning against the balcony, James frowning at her. "I mean, well you... God, how can I explain it." He sat down, and Ororo followed suit next to him. "You act like you want to do something, then you don't do it. You're cold, then you're friendly again in the blink of an eye." He sounded frustrated as he floundered for words to describe her. "I dunno, you just... are."

"I can think of one thing I want to do," she murmured softly, not quite sure how he managed to hear her above all the noise, but not caring, "and I'm not opposed to doing it."

James still seemed blissfully unaware of what she wanted to do, but she restrained herself from jumping the boy and kissing him to death, instead settling for inching closer till their legs touched. Their lips were an inch apart when they were interrupted.

"Hey! 'RORO!"

Jerking backwards, Ororo cursed every god and goddess she could think of in that second. She'd been so _**close**_ to him! A few _**centimetres**_ more and she could have... could have... KISSED HIM.

_UGH!_ She mentally screamed. _WHY **NOW** JEAN!_

Skidding to a stop before them, Jean Grey shot the two a dazzling smile. "Hey you two," she teased, "we've been looking all over- the bus is waiting."

James and Ororo shared equally irritated looks, which caused Ororo to feel grateful that he too hated the interruption. "Is it time to go already?" she asked innocently. At Jean's nod she sent her friend a fake smile. "Damn, we must have lost track of time."

As the trio walked to the white marble stairs, Ororo blushed when James's hand found hers and squeezed.

* * *

Professor Henry McCoy was shaken. Shaken, shocked and somewhat afraid.

_It's impossible! Just damn right impossible! There's no way that man could have been James!_

They looked pretty much the same, save for the man having some lines on his face, a deeper tan, more muscles, height and _**age**_ on his side. Save for that, the two could have been twins.

_It's just **damn impossible**! **IMPOSSIBLE, IMPOSSIBLE, IMPOSSIBLE!** Stop making theories- no one, I repeat, **no one**, can live for well over a century! _

Yet even as he drove on, James's laughter resounding in the background of the bus, he shivered as he thought that _**if **_that man had indeed been James in the current time, what happened to him to make his eyes appear so... haunted?


	11. Trees and Information

Hank McCoy exited the Professor's office with a lighter heart and an intense headache. He had just finished informing him on all that he had seen in the mall- including the mysterious sighting of a possible current time James.

_And now, speak of the devil, I have to find him. _

Changing direction, he turned into the corridor, pushing open the kitchen doors when he reached them, and upon seeing no James in there, made to walk off.

_Henry, he's outside, on the lawn... with Ororo, I believe._

Mentally thanking the Professor from saving him from hours of searching, he turned and headed outside.

* * *

"Ororo, seriously, it isn't that hard."

"Maybe not for you, but it is for me. And there is no way I am trying to do that."

"At all?"

"At all."

James stared at her, before both teen's eyes drifted back to the giant tree he was currently trying to persuade his friend to climb. "You've never climbed a tree before?"

Ororo shot him a look. "Yes, but only once and even then it was thorny." She looked away, trying to hide her blush. "I fell off, and if you'd had thorns stuck where I had them stuck you'd be avoiding trees as well."  
James stifled a laugh, and sniggered instead, before moving in front of her. "C'mon 'Ro."

"'Ro?"

"Well sure," he smiled slightly at her tone of voice, "I mean, everyone's got to have a nickname."

"And what's yours then? Jamie?"

"No," he scoffed, making a gagging noise, "my brother calls me Jimmy. And everyone else in camp calls me Logan."

"Camp?" Ororo blinked, but kept her curious thoughts to herself. "What is there to do for fun around this camp?"

James grinned slightly. "I go on hunts with the wolves. And climb trees." His slight grin faded. "Or do chores. But mainly it's just the mining."

"Mining?" Ororo blinked slowly, eyes narrowing as suspicion settled in. "Where are you from again?"

"I told you before, Canada."

"Let me rephrase that- what **year** are you from? Mining camps that employ children are banned nowadays. Since, let me think, the nineteen, oh... forties?"

James blinked, expression one of confusion or thought, as his mind thought back to the conversation he'd had with the Professor- how his world was... _**different**_ to this one. "Oh, um. Well..."

"James! Ororo!" Both turned to see Hank walking towards them. "I'm glad I found you two. Wouldn't want you climbing that tree and falling, would we? James, the Professor wishes to talk to you. About your... situation."

"Okay," he muttered, shooting Ororo an apologetic glance. "I'll be right there."

"As in right now, young man."

As Hank led James off inside, Ororo turned back to the tree and stared up at it in thought. Then, with her mind made up, she gripped the bark with her hands and hoisted herself up to the first branch.

XXX

"James. As we have explained to you, Jean's little incident brought you here, and while we are searching for a way back for you, there isn't much possibility of finding one reasonably soon. That is why, from as of next week, you will be attending certain classes. Obviously ones that give away too much information, but still, you will be attending school. Are you going to find that a problem?"

Processing the information, James stared at the floor, twitching in his seat.

"James?"

Looking up, he slowly nodded. "I... I was home schooled until ten... before... I haven't really, been to _**school**_ for..."

"It's okay," Hank soothed. "If you want, I'm sure one of your new friends can be in the same class. Would Ororo mind helping you?"

James jerked his head towards the scientist, not missing for one second the twinkle in his soon-to-be-teachers eyes. Blushing slightly, he shrugged. "I... don't know."

"Ask her, and find out her answer. I'll have a timetable planned for you," Charles instructed him, "and please don't go climbing that tree. If you fall, it would be a major setback for your classes."

James nodded meekly, shooting a fierce glare at McCoy as his inner animal- which had been eerily quiet for days now, woke up again, demanding dominance and blood. "Alright then."

He was about to close the door behind him, when he remembered something. "Professor," he asked slowly, "what was that... thing, chasing me when I arrived here?" He was perceptive enough not to miss the way both men stiffened slightly, and the way their scents- old paper and well, fur- changed.

"We are not sure as of yet," Hank said after a moment's silence. "But, after the final tests are conducted, we'll be sure to inform you. You shouldn't worry yourself about that anyway- it's not the biggest issue around."

"Yeah, sure. But," the teenager continued, hand on the door handle, "there won't be any side-effects from the bite it gave me?"

"Not as far as we can tell, no."

As James left, the two men shared a look, and without a word, headed down to the lab.

To the cells.

* * *

So, what do you think? Please read and review!


	12. Melting

"Henry."

"Charles, I honestly can't... _couldn't_ tell him that."

"You have to."

"I _**can't**_!"

Xavier gripped the arms of his wheelchair tightly, moving his gaze from the still body on the table to the agitated Henry McCoy. "He's not going to find out otherwise."

Sighing in resignation, Beast nodded. "But once he's settled in."

"Yes, but before he starts asking questions. He's waited long enough for answers as it is."

* * *

"James! I thought you'd be longer than only fifteen minutes!" Ororo grinned at her friend, who smiled slightly back.

"Yeah well," James murmured, "it was a quick meeting."

"What did they want?" she asked, as the pair made their way into the hallway.

"Huh?"

"What did they want to talk to you about?"

"Oh, um." Stalling for words, James finally settled on a description. "Schooling. Apparently I have to attend school here and..."

"Which class are you in?" Ororo secretly smiled, but her face displayed only curiosity.

"... Yours."

Ororo's inner smile turned into a fierce blush, but she managed to hide it on her face fairly well. "Oh, um, guess I better keep an eye on you, huh?"

He smiled at her, hazel-green eyes scanning her face. "Ororo, in the..."

"Mall?" Her inner blush intensified. "W-What about the mall?"

James studied the floor beneath him, before he raised his eyes towards hers, then scanned the corridor around them, as if looking for any spies. Seeing none, though it had just been a ruse to work up the courage, he stepped closer. His fingers lightly brushed her arm, and then Ororo felt like she was flying, high in the clouds, light shining... "I, um, wanted to... do, that," struggling for words, he gestured towards her, before nervously nodding and moving backwards. "I'll, uh, see you, at dinner..."

Then he was gone.

Ororo felt like she was melting as she raised her trembling fingers to her lips and held them there, the warmth of his own still lingering.

* * *

Only a short chapter this time round- I haven't got as much imagination for this one at the moment.


	13. Frustrations and Wolves

James couldn't sleep that night.

Partly because of the memory of killing his father- good- and partly because the animal just _wouldn't_. Quiet. Down.

And, partly because he kept dreaming of Ororo. Not that he minded, but trying to sleep while dreaming of someone you like was very distracting.

Growling as the memory of her scent- African spice- drifted back into his memory, he huffed, rolled over and pounded his pillow with his fists until it was flat.

It didn't help.

Sighing, he slammed his head down into his flattened pillow, closing his eyes tightly and just hoping, _**wishing**_ that he could get some sleep that night.

_But it was a good kiss..._

"ARGH!" Sitting up, he threw his pillow at his window, where it landed with a muffled _thump_ on the floorboards. "Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "now I'm going to have to pick that up."

Sighing heavily, he swung his legs out of bed, got to his feet and walked over to the fallen pillow. Bending down to pick it up, he was once again reminded of why he'd thrown it in the first place, and threw it down again.

"God," he hissed, "why can't I stop thinking about her?"

Standing up, he walked towards the window, staring aimlessly out at the woods, before reaching a decision.

_Maybe if I went for a walk it would help, _he thought, _maybe chat to that wolf, Li'ah, I met earlier. Huh, yeah. A wolf's gonna know a lot about __**that **__sort of thing._

Berating himself for thinking that stupidly, he opened his window anyway, shimmying down the drain pipe conveniently close and jumping to the ground, landing in a crouch.

_I need to go for a walk anyway._

* * *

Ororo Munroe was still melting. In fact, she was sure that by now she was suffering the same fate as that double chocolate chip ice cream that she'd left out in the sun once for too long and by the time she'd gotten round to eating it it was a pile of slush.

Yep, she was definitely suffering the same fate.

All she had to do was think about James, then she'd remember the softness of his lips and- GOD! WHY COULDN'T SHE STOP **THINKING** ABOUT IT!

"Thinking about what 'Roro?"

Scowling, she rolled over in bed to stare at a sleepy Jean. "Nothing," she assured her friend with a false smile, "it's nothing."

"'K then," Jean murmured, she herself rolling onto her side, "night."

"Yeah, night," Ororo muttered back, before shooting a look towards the full moon outside her window.

_Maybe some ice cream will help- yeah, some double fudge chocolate and strawberry ice cream is **really **going to take my mind off the most gorgeous boy I've ever met and the fact that he **kissed me**. Ororo, you're so stupid._

She stared aimlessly at the moon for a moment longer, before sighing and giving in.

_Oh, it's worth a try... S_he thought as she got out of bed.

* * *

Li'ah knew something was different about that boy she'd seen earlier that week. Something just as wild as herself, and just as unpredictable lurking beneath his human façade.

And it didn't involve the fact that he could talk to her kind.

Sure, the other animals couldn't understand the boy, and he couldn't understand them, but the Ke-soran language was not one written down in those paper "books" _entifis_ were so fond of writing in and it certainly wasn't taught in the _entifi_ schools.

And how exactly did that **entifi boy** understand the language of the wolves? The very idea was preposterous!

That didn't change the fact that he could of course.

Getting to her feet, Li'ah swished her tail in aggravation, growling softly to herself. She'd have to talk with the elders soon about the boy- it wasn't an ordinary skill he possessed.

"It isn't?"

Oh yes, and understanding their thoughts as well.

Turning on the spot, she saw the boy walking towards her, hands in his pockets, and she flashed a wolfish grin at him. _"Did you think it was, little entifi?"_

"I told you, my names James."

James, so that was his name. _"Not in our language."_

"What would it be in your language then?"

Li'ah pondered this for a moment, her elegant head cocked to one side as she regarded the _hivil_ before her. _"I believe that the name Lo'rahn would suit you."_ **(A/N: It's pronounced Lo-hr-an)**

"Lo'rahn..." The boy grinned after a moment. "Then you can call me that."

Li'ah blinked in surprise, her grey fur glowing in the moonlight, before she let out a bark that James correctly interpreted as a laugh. _"You are a strange one Lo'rahn. Very strange."_

James grinned, his canines appearing almost as sharp as the wolf's in the light of the moon. "And proud of it."

Li'ah huffed in agreement, before turning and padding away, the boy whom she would refer to as Lo'rahn for the rest of her time on earth that Medea allowed her following her. _"Follow me Lo'rahn. There are some carnalas you must meet."_

Oh how the elders were going to **enjoy this**.

* * *

I'm going to post the language I made up for another story involving werewolves (Ke'sora) on my page when I have time and I've updated it enough, but for now the definitions will follow below:

**Entifi: **human **Entifis(Entifi's): **humans/human's

**Ke'sora: **language of the wolves- shared by all kinds. Some wolf tribes have differences though.

**Medea: **Mother God

**Hivil: **pup

**Carnala: **wolf **Carnalas(Carnala's): **wolves/wolf's


	14. Essays and Repeats

"... Now, I want you all to write an essay on World War 2, focusing on the front line experience. I expect that for **each** of you, it is _**at least**_ six pages long." Pausing for a moment to allow the collective students to groan, Henry McCoy continued. "It is due next Friday. Failure to hand it in will result in detention."

Ororo was one of the many students who groaned heavily even more upon hearing the date. James, who was sitting beside her, was merely frowning at their teacher, confusion clearly written all over his face. "'Roro," he hissed, as McCoy turned around to write the date on the board, causing Ororo to look at him, "when... what's World War 2?"

Ororo blinked, before looking at McCoy's back and leaning over to whisper in his ear. "You really don't know?" At James's negative response, she frowned. "I'll explain later."

She sat back down just as McCoy turned around.

"James? Can I have a word?"

Stopping at the doorway, James stared at Beast for a minute, fighting the rising instinct to challenge him for dominance the animal instilled in him, before nodding and making his way to the desk.

"Please, take a seat."

Doing so, James allowed his bag to rest between his legs, assessing the mutant before him.

"Now, James. As Charles and I told you before, you'll be doing different assignments to the rest of the class. This is your first. Outline the way of life in the early nineteenth century. Just an essay, I only expect tops five pages as it's your first."

James took the file he was offered with a frown, leafing through the information inside, all printed words and inked letters. Absent-mindedly, he spoke up. "Hand-written?"

Hank blinked, before shrugging, not that James saw. "I usually prefer my students to hand-write their work, yes, but if you so desire, you may type it."

"Type?" Looking up from the file, James cocked his head at the word. "You mean on a type-writer?"

"What?" Shaking his head at the unexpected question, Hank served James a look. "Oh, no. On a computer."

"What's a computer?"  
"A computer is- is something you don't need to know about at the moment. It's... ahead, of your time."

James frowned once more, before narrowing his eyes, suddenly becoming aggressive. "I know. I'm alive in this time."

Hank gaped at him. "How do you-"

"I just know, okay? And my logic is this- if I'm alive _**today**_ then wouldn't any knowledge about the future _**help**_ me?"

Hank could only continue gaping as James stormed outside.

* * *

"So, what? I just press-" James jerked back, the printed letter on the screen surprising him as he pushed the button marked with an 'r.' "Wow. How... how did that..."

Ororo grinned at his obvious awe, taking his hand and directing his fingers to the 'o.' "It's a keyboard. If you press these letters-"

"And numbers?"

"-and numbers, yeah, then they appear on the screen. And-"

"That's the computer?"

"-no, that's the screen for the computer. This is the computer. The program is called OpenOffice. It allows you to type things up, and then you print them-"

"-printing?"

"-god, how often are you going to interrupt me?"

James retreated into himself at her words, visibly shocked. "Sorry," he murmured.

Ororo sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. "No, no. I should be the one saying sorry." She stared down at James, who was prodding the keyboard with the tips of his fingers. "You seriously haven't heard of a computer before?"

"No." James's voice was quiet. "I haven't."

"And you haven't heard of World War 2 either?"

"No. I'm guessing there was a World War 1 as well?"

Ororo stared down at him, disbelief on her face as the seeds of a _**very **_far-fetched theory formed in her mind. "James, where do you come from?"

He frowned up at her, pausing in typing his name out. "I already told you, Canada."

"Oh yeah." She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

"No problem." The boy before her looked away again. "You're angry with me about yesterday?"

_Angry? Goddess forbid- how can he think that? _"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No."

"At all?"

"Give me one reason why I should be angry about yesterday, cos I can't think of any."

"Mind if I do it again?"

"...Be my guest."

James glanced up at her, before he bit his lip. Before Ororo knew it, his lips were on hers again, warm and soft and-

_My turn!_

Her hands gripped his shoulders as she kissed back, and they only broke apart by a delighted squeal from the library doorway. Both still star-struck, they turned to see Jean standing there, hands over her mouth, green eyes wide, books strewn all over the floor. "You- you guys... are... together! Ohmygod!" Pulling away from James, Ororo stared at her over-excited friend coldly, though Jean seemed not to notice, still near-hyperventilating. "This is **GREAT** news!"

Jean, forgetting her books, ran out the room, and Ororo shot James a nervous look. "Should I be apologising for that?"

James, though, for his part, smiled at her warmly. "I don't see why; I can't think of any reason why you need to."

Ororo's own lips curved upwards.


	15. Twisted Parody

Sorry about the really really REALLY long wait that comes with this- I've been overloaded with sleep overs and holidays and had a major MAJOR case of Writer's Block. (By the way, has anyone invented a cure yet? I really need one.)

* * *

"So you two are, like, an item now?"

Groaning, yet secretly pleased with the news herself, Ororo turned to face one of her friends, Kitty Pryde, who was staring at her, almost stunned. "Why is it everyone wants to know about it?" The African complained, shouldering her bag and making sure her bedroom door was firmly closed.

Kitty's eyes widened. "Well everyone thought you were gonna get with Forge, but..."

"Forge?"

"The Cheyenne boy." Kitty sent her friend a look. "The Cheyenne boy who stares at you every chance he gets and happens to be your lab partner in Chemistry."

Ororo considered, before she realised who Kitty was talking about. "Oh, him. Why would I get with him?"

Kitty shrugged, signalling she had no idea either, and the two girls began making their way down to the main staircase. "So, what do you actually think about him?"

"Who?" Ororo asked, attention diverted from the conversation by the view of James walking down the stairs in front of them, looking slightly like he was being interrogated by Scott Summers and Remy LeBeau.

"James you looney. Your _boyfriend._"

Ororo smiled at the words, before grinning at her friend. "I think I've got to go save my _boyfriend_from interrogation."

* * *

"So you and Ororo, huh? Merde, you be a lucky guy," Remy LeBeau muttered in jealously. "Stormy and I been friends for a long time mon ami, but never has Stormy been with anyone."

"Yeah, you really are lucky," Scott spoke up, a goofy grin on his face. "She's hot."

"Look," James snapped suddenly, "can you just go and bother someone else? People are always talking about it."

"Well that's what teenagers do, they gossip. You and Ororo are probably the most talked about couple in the school."

"Lucky us."

"Jimmy... don't be like that."

James whirled around, turning and stopping to glare viciously at Scott- who had spoken. "Listen," he snarled out, a growl tickling the back of his throat, "shut the hell up."

Scott held his hands out in surrender, an alarmed look on his face. "Hey, dude, calm down... it's just the gossip mill."

James let his books fall to the floor, his hands balling into fists as he let the building growl surface as a vicious snarl. A placating hand was placed on his shoulder, and with a fierce snarl he whipped around to glare at his "attacker."

"Woah," Remy gasped, pulling his hand back. "Merde. James?"

The low continuing growl at the back of James's throat grew in volume at his words, and with a red haze descending over his senses, James's world went into hyper-drive. His knuckles itched, the muscles in his forearms straining to hold back the weapons James had become adept at hiding.

"I think you need to calm down," Scott advised, sounding shaken, "or I'll get the Professor."

James, too full of deep, violent rage to calm down, lost himself.

With a fierce growl, the animal turned to face the other boy, dilated gold wolf-like eyes glaring at him ferociously. Scott reeled back, fear tainting his scent. "What the hell..."

The animal allowed his weapons to leave the confines of his forearms.

* * *

Ororo and Kitty watched in growing concern and alarm as Scott took a step back, hands held out in front of him, the boy's words unheard down the hall. A low growl was heard, felt in the core of their bones, and a moment later...

...Three very sharp pieces of bone emerged from James's knuckles in a twisted parody of claws.


	16. Trauma

The three twelve inch spikes of bone flashed through the air once more, narrowly missing Scott's already bleeding cheek as he fell backwards, scrabbling for a hold on the wooden floor in a panic. Behind the out-of-control feral, Remy LeBeau ran.

The gold wolf-like eyes seemed alien on the once peaceful boy's face, yet at the same time they seemed fitting. The claws on the other hand... maybe not so natural.

As the claws almost swiped his arm, Scott scrambled to a sitting position, and with little to no options left, reached up a hand to remove his sunglasses, letting a burst of vibrant red laser to slam into James's shoulder. The animal in boy's clothing before him snarled it's pain, one clawed hand coming to rest on it's injured shoulder. When that hand was removed, scarred skin was all he could see- scarred skin that was rapidly healing to become fresh, raw skin.

Staring in shock, Scott was unprepared for the attack that slashed his arm, tearing into muscle. With a feral growl of triumph, the animal before him readied his weapons once more, aiming for the mutant's neck-

-only for the claw's descent to be stopped by the sound of a shocked voice.

"My God! James!"

All heads turned to see Henry McCoy bounding towards them, horror on his face.

With another snarl, the animal turned to flee, only to be caught in the grip of strong arms. Struggling to contain the out-of-control boy, Hank grunted with the effort it took to keep him still. "Scott!" he gasped out. "Move!"

With a pale face and one hand gripping his wound, Scott complied, moving backwards.

"Henry!" Looking in the direction of the elevator, Beast nodded in Xavier's direction as the old man directed his chair out the small space. "Charles! Do something!"

"I've tried," Charles said, sounding harried, "his mind is too feral. You'll have to restrain him-"

But his words were cut off by a bellow of pain from the scientist as James dug razor sharp teeth into his upper arm. Letting go even slightly was all it took for James to dart out of Hank's arms, racing down the corridor-

-and into Ororo Munroe.

* * *

Ororo watched the scene before her in barely disguised horror as she ran it through her mind again and again that she was dating a feral. _**A feral.**_ Ferals were rare, and powerful, and it was evident that James possessed a healing ability as well as the customary claws.

So when the fully feral James collided into her, her reaction was delayed.

But her reaction to the blood welling from her arm wasn't.

* * *

The smell of blood hit the animal's nose as it pulled away from the white furred female, hissing in anger at the smell. As it's eyes fell on the blood leaking from the three deep puncture wounds in the female's arm, humanity began to return.

The red haze leaving his vision, James stared in horror at the wound on Ororo's arm- then stared down at his claws. Letting out a gasp-cry of horror and fear, the boy backed away from her. In his mind's eye, a beautiful, young red headed girl stood in front of him, six neat holes in her abdomen.

His claws were covered in her blood.

As the girl collapsed, hands pressed against her arm, the trauma of the memory forced James to be sucked into the horror of his claws sinking into Rose's stomach, her wide, beautiful green eyes boring into his own as she died gasping out his name.

Letting out a wounded howl, James turned and sprinted down the stairs.

"Henry, are you alright?"

"I..." Beast hissed, letting his hand cover his wound. "I am fine."

"We need to find him- his mind is traumatised. He's caught in a flashback."

"I need to attend to Scott and Ororo, Charles." Beast stared at his wound almost ruefully. "We should have seen this coming. His control over the animal was tenuous at best."

"We'll deal with that when we find him- I'll alert the other teachers. Henry, get these two stitched up, then, if you can, meet me in my office."

Beast nodded as he commissioned the help of Kitty and Remy to assist him, and the Professor moved back towards the elevator, expression grim.

He could only hope against hope that James snapped out of it soon, before he lost control all together.

* * *

Next chapter... who knows? I don't plan ahead when I type these things!


	17. The Call

He was running. Running for his life.

Behind him, the angry miners chased after him, waving their guns and other weapons that he didn't know. In amongst the crowd, his father ran too, hate marring his face, the blood stain and hole in his chest visible. His true father was there too, brandishing the gun that had murdered his papa.

Breathing shallowly, as every breath hurt his chest, James stifled a terrified and agonized sob, scrambling over a fallen tree branch, only to have his sleeve catch on a small branch. Tugging at the material, he fell backwards onto his back as the cotton ripped. The impact bringing tears to his eyes, he let loose a small, pained cry, closing his eyes for a moment.

A low growl echoed to his right, and James's eyes shot open in terror.

Turning his head to the right, his mouth opened in a haunting scream as the creature from his nightmares lunged at him, dark fur matted and jaws gaping...

* * *

Li'ah raced through the forest behind the terrified boy, her amber eyes fixated on the young _entifi_ as he kept glancing behind him as if running from something. She watched as Lo'rahn tripped over nothing, saw him look to his right, open his mouth and...

...howl.

Stunned into stopping her loping gait, Li'ah stopped running, her pupils dilated in shock as she listened to the wolf howl echoing from Lo'rahn's mouth. Even from her position metres away, the flash of his wolf-teeth seemed bright.

After what seemed like minutes, the howl died away, leaving Lo'rahn silent, pale and shaking in a heap on the ground. Padding forward, Li'ah gently nudged the inert boy with her nose, only to jerk back in surprise as his scent hit her nose.

Lo'rahn's innocent, human scent was tainted.

Tainted with the smell of _carnala_.

Nosing his side again after a moment, Li'ah gently licked the boy's hand, from which protruded three long, sharp bones. Tasting the blood that she accidentally licked away, Li'ah's tail twitched.

It wasn't the pup's blood.

The crack of a twig had her immediately stepping to stand protectively over the boy's prone, inert body, a warning snarl echoing in her throat. An answering growl made her relax, the fur on her neck settling.

As four more wolves padded out of the brush, Li'ah respectfully dipped her head to each. "_Elders."_

"_Li'ah." _The oldest wolf, a dark grey alpha male with streaks of black in his tail and ruff, stepped forward, sniffing the air around Lo'rahn. _"We heard the call."  
_

_"The howl?"_ Li'ah questioned, her lips pulling back over her teeth in a frown as her tail twitched again. _"It was a call?"  
_

The wolf, whose name was Ri'tarai, looked sharply at her, lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. _"Do not be so disrespectful Li'ah. Of course it was a call."_

"_He smells like carnala. Like wolf." _Another wolf, one with streaks of white in her light grey fur, spoke up. _"Why?"_

_"Elis'eh!" _Ri'tarai snarled, turning on his fellow elder and pack-mate.

"_Calm yourself brother," _the she-wolf, Elis'eh, growled back, _"I was merely wondering."_

_"There is no time for worrying!" _The third wolf, a young grey wolf, with black at the tips of his ears. _"The entifi needs care. His wounds are deep."_

_"Yes, Latien." _Ri'tarai closed his dark eyes with a small huff. _"Bring him to the den."  
_

* * *

Jean gently placed her hand on her friend's shoulder, green eyes eyeing the bandage on her arm sympathetically. "'Roro."

There was no response.

"Ororo."

"What do you want Jean."

"To talk. You haven't said a word since-"

Ororo glared at the red head with tearful and angry blue eyes. "And what do you want me to say? Huh?"

Jean sighed, removing her hand from Ororo's shoulder. "I want you to know that I caught a glimpse of James's mind as he fled. He was _horrified, _'Roro. He was scared."

"He's a feral." Ororo's eyes went misty, then grew hard. "God, I was _so stupid! _I should _have known_ that something was _different_ about him!"

Jean recoiled as her friend's anger hit her with the force of a hurricane. "Ororo..."

"I mean, no one _normal _would _ever_ take an interest in _me _of all people!"

"Ororo!"

"WHAT JEAN?"

Jean's green eyes were flinty. "You care for him. He cares for you. Don't throw what you have away because of self-hate or an accident."

Ororo glared. "Reading my mind, again, huh? Well STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD! I DON'T NEED SOME RED-HEADED PANSY TELLING ME TO KEEP A HOLD ON SOMETHING! I DON'T NEED HIM! HE'S JUST SOME DUMB ANIMAL ANYWAY!"

Jean recoiled, staring at her friend.

Ororo's eyes were angry and hard, flinty and cold, her white hair in disarray around her face. Her fists clenched on her knees, her mind radiating anger and pain. And hate.

Without a word, Jean turned on her heels and left, the door to the infirmary sliding shut behind her.

As her back disappeared, Ororo crumpled.

And sobbed.

* * *

CARNALA: wolf


	18. Truths

"I want to come with you."

Henry McCoy paused in opening the door that led out onto Charles's personal balcony, turning around and looking at a determined Jean Grey with a raised eyebrow. "Why would you want to do that?"

Jean took a step forward, her eyes tired. "I need to bring James back. For Ororo. She needs him, but she won't let herself admit it." The tiredness grew in her eyes. "And because... I sensed his mind as he fled." She looked at her teacher, eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears. "He was terrified and... and traumatised. He needs someone he can trust."

Henry blinked, a silent moment held between the two; determined student and determined teacher. "Okay."

* * *

The woods were dark, the ground beneath the two's feet mottled by sunlight that reached through the canopy of branches above them. Moss and leaves surrounded the base of the trees, and Jean found it almost peaceful.

Pausing, Henry cocked his head to the side, inhaling deeply. "Wolves," he said after a moment, "and James." He pointed to his right. "They went right."

Jean fingered the scrap of cotton shirt she'd found stained with blood, caught on a tree branch a few metres back the nearly indistinguishable path they'd taken. "How can you tell?"

Henry tapped his nose. "Enhanced senses."

"Is James okay?"

"I can smell his scent but... it's more wild. More untamed. I..." He paused, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Tell me!"

"Jean..."

"If this has something to do with James, tell me!"

Henry sighed, hanging his head as his eyes fell upon the blood speckled piece of shirt clutched in Jean's hand. Shaking his head heavily, a momentary silence fell over the two, the only sound being the chirping of birds in the woods.

"When you brought James back here," he muttered after a moment, "and the body of the creature that attacked him, I ran some tests on it. There nothing out of the ordinary to suggest it was anything other than a wolf, and nothing was wrong." He sighed again. "Until I did a test on a reddish-brown substance I found on it's teeth. The results came back that it was a mix of berries, a traditional Indian mixture used in ancient ceremonies. I did some research and found that..."

"That what?"

"The berry mixture was used by Indians in their ceremonies almost as a drug. A way for the immune system to boost, and for certain... illnesses to be cured. What the Indians _didn't _know is that they almost created a natural cannabis. A hallucinogenic mixture with the power to confuse the mind. When the wolf bit James, the drug got into his system, but his healing factor seemingly defeated it."

"But how did the drug get onto the wolf's teeth in the first place?"

"That's the answer I was hoping James could provide us with," Henry sighed, beginning to move forward again, "because it sounds to me that James was running from it _before_you turned up."

* * *

Li'ah watched the two _entifi's _make their way towards the den. Peeling her lips back at the blue furred _entifi_, she noted their scents to memory. They smelled _darni_. Tame. Nothing like the scent of the wild, the scent of _dartol_. Their scents seemed... fake.

Looking up at the sun as she stretched slowly, her mind processed the strange sounds they had made during their conversation. The word _James_ had been repeated several times through-out her shift of tracking the intruders, and Li'ah recognised it as Lo'rahn's _entifi _name.

What business did they have with the _hivil_? Li'ah let a silent snarl pass her muzzle as she padded past the new tracking wolf, a male named Har'vei. _"Track them silently,"_ she growled at him quietly, _"the blue furred one has senses."_

Har'vei nodded as he padded behind the intruders and Li'ah loped off towards the den, her paws silent against the leaves.

It was her duty to protect the _hivil _now.

No one was getting to Lo'rahn.

No one.

* * *

DARNI: tame

DARTOL: wild

HIVIL: pup


	19. Ambush

They had the feeling they were being watched.

Bringing Jean closer to him, Henry narrowed his eyes at the silent path behind him, scanning the brush either side of it warily. Pushing Jean forward a little, he too turned his attention towards the small wolf den they'd found.

"Your sure James's... scent, leads to here?" Jean asked, a little confused. Shooting a look towards her teacher, she frowned a little as Henry nodded slowly. "Why?"

"Well, among other attributes he has," Henry muttered slowly, "James has animal empathy. He can connect to animals on an emotional level. Maybe he asked for help?"

"Sounds so crazy when you say that," Jean murmured, only to fall silent as her eyes grew wide. "Look!" she whispered, pointing towards the remnants of something that looked like cloth at the side of the small cave. "Isn't that the shirt James was wearing?"

Henry peered at it from the short distance they were away from it, then pursed his lips. "I cannot say. Jean... Jean!"

Jean was gone. Scrambling into the clearing, the teenager was moving towards the cloth eagerly. Having no choice but to follow, Henry bounded after her.

Reaching her in a matter of seconds, he looked over he shoulder at the blood-stained cloth Jean held, nodding gravely as she looked at him questioningly. "It's James's."

"Which means he's in there..." Jean trailed off, looking at the small den. "How do we get him out?"

Henry was about to reply when the ambush started.

Jean let out a surprised scream as from the den she was peering into, a wolf erupted, digging sharp claws into her pale skin and writhing under the weight as the wolf forced her to the ground. Charging towards the wolf, Henry grabbed it and threw it away, only for another to grab onto his back with razor-sharp teeth and shake, tearing away a part of his shirt. Another soon joined in, tearing sharp claws into his leg.

Letting out a surprised yell of pain, Henry fell to the ground, shaking to try and rid himself of the wolves, but they just kept coming, pinning him and Jean to the ground, more growling and snarling from the sidelines.

"Neike! Neike shim'e! Neike! Maray kamar neike har-sei!"

The wolves stopped growling and snarling. Backing away from Henry and Jean like chastened children, their amber and blue eyes fixed on the owner of the voice who was emerging from the den.

Looking up, Henry and Jean saw their saviour.

James.

* * *

Ororo Munroe winced as another unintended movement made her arm hurt, aching through the pain-killers and the bandages. James's claws had cut deep, almost tearing muscle, like he had done to Scott.

Growing impatient at trying to tug the shirt over her head, Ororo gave up, slouching onto her bed and holding her head in her hands. Why did her relationships **always** have to go wrong?

What was wrong with her?

* * *

He was dressed in the same jeans as they'd seen him last, only they were torn and slightly blood-stained. His chest was bare, and Jean let herself admire the view for one single moment before jerking her mind back to why she was here.

But still... she hadn't known about the muscles he was hiding away... _No, bad Jean! Focus!_

His hair was also longer, slightly darker that yesterday. His eyes too, were still a amber-hazel rather than a hazel-green. His eyes that were staring at them in almost a shocked kind of way.

"James," Henry muttered, stunned, "what did you do?"

James didn't answer immediately. Just stared at them. Then: "I... I told them you meant no harm."

* * *

Sorry for the extra long wait for these updates, but I had MAJOR writer's block and no inspiration. Thanks to Jeanniebird for the prompts!


	20. Help

The clock ticked loudly in the silence of her bedroom.

Underneath her covers, Ororo stared blankly at her arm, fingers lightly grazing over the bandage. Closing her eyes slowly, she removed her hand, pulling the covers up over her head a little more and burrowing her nose into her pillow.

_How could I have been so stupid... **No one **wants to date **me**... _

Stifling a slight sob, Ororo allowed her anger to override her sorrow. _Actually, __**how dare he!**__ How dare he walk right in and... and __**not **__tell me what he was!_

Biting her lip, she abruptly sat up, the blankets that had been so tightly wrapped underneath her chin flung back across the bed by a strong gust of wind. Eyes beginning to glow white with rage, she clenched her hands into fists, lightning licking strands of her hair.

_**How. Dare. He!**_

As Ororo surrendered to her emotions, a loud clap of thunder boomed overhead, as dark clouds opened to unleash a torrent of rain and hail onto unsuspecting students.

* * *

"How... what? Sorry, James, could you uh... run that by me again?" Hank stuttered. "You... told them we... meant no harm?"

James nodded slowly, one sharp canine making an appearance as he bit his lip. "It's... I've..." Swallowing, he cleared his throat. "I've been able to do it since..."

Slowly getting to his feet, Henry eyed the silent wolves warily. "Yes, well. We can discuss that once we return to the mansion."

James blanched, taking an involuntary step back as the wolves picked up on his shock and took a step forward. "Return? T-To the mansion?" James shook his head, pupils slitting even further into wolf like slits. "No... I... No."

"James," Hank pleaded, reaching out a hand slowly, "you have to come back. You need _help_."

A low growl peeled from the main wolf's throat, the grey wolf standing near James raising it's hackles and moving closer to the boy. Simultaneously all the other wolves snarled and stepped forward again. Trapped in the middle of a circle of wolves, Jean and Henry shuffled closer to each other.

"_Help?_" The same rage they'd seen earlier in his eyes surfacing again, James bared his teeth, eyes turning gold once more. "_I _need help?" A low snarl echoing from the teenager's mouth, James took a silent, fluid step forward, fists clenching. "_You're _the ones who need _help_."

As if taking their cue from him, the wolves advanced slowly, sharp fangs showing as they pushed Henry and Jean backwards. "James," Hank called out desperately. "You can't control this! Don't become like Sabertooth! Let us HELP you!"

The wolves stopped. Snarls faded. As one, all the assembled wolves turned their heads to stare at James, whose amber-hazel eyes were wide with shock.

Too late Henry realised what he'd said. "James..." he muttered, "please."

"Become like... Sabertooth?" James whispered, eyes wide and almost pleading. "Like... No! No, he wouldn't give in."

"James," Jean softly muttered, "calm down."

Wide amber-hazel eyes turned to her, and James visibly winced. "No," he murmured. "Victor... Victor wouldn't... He'd never... Rose?"

"James, please calm down."

As Jean pleaded with James, Hank observed the wolves surrounding them. Many were looking at a few select wolves, and those wolves were growling among themselves, almost as if talking. Biting his lip as the first sign of agitated violence appeared among the gathering of wolves, Henry deftly and slowly unhooked the small gun from his belt, loading it as quietly as he could.

"No! He promised! Victor said..." James was visibly beginning to tremble, hands clutching his hair as his eyes seemed unable to look away from Jean. "Rose... Victor... No..." His words trailing off into a pained moan as James sank to his knees, holding his head, Henry sucked in a breath, tapping Jean on the shoulder.

"When I say so, use TK to blast the wolves away," he muttered, "we're getting James out of here."

"How?"

Raising the gun to his eye, Hank closed his eyes briefly, begging apology. "Sorry James," he murmured quietly, before his finger pulled the the trigger.

* * *

Again, thanks to Jeanniebird for the inspiration! I now have enough questions to type another hundred chapters!


	21. Protect

The clock was once again ticking away in silence. Except only this silence was one that the whole school felt.

Every single student of Xavier's School For Gifted Youngster's sat in the main hall, eyes downcast as their headmaster berated each and every one of them from his position on the main podium. Ororo Munroe sat in the third row, the seat next to her, where Jean would normally sit, taken by Forge instead, who's eyes were trained unnervingly on her. Avoiding the Indian's gaze, Ororo's cold, dry eyes examined the grains of the floor studiously.

"Ororo?"

Ignoring Forge's question, she only looked at him when his hand brushed her shoulder. "What do you want?"

"I... I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Well, thank you, but I am fine now." Ororo let her gaze meet his steadily, until he had to look away. As Professor Xavier finished his lecture and dismissed them, students beginning to file out in silence, Ororo rose too and began to leave.

"Hey! Wait! Ororo!"

Sighing as Forge grabbed her arm and spun her around, she glared at him angrily. "What do you want _now_?"

Forge let go of her arm as she spoke, before clearing his throat and letting a hesitant smile grace his lips. "I... well, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me tomorrow. I mean, it is Saturday and I have no plans-"

The rest of his sentence was cut short by his pained yell as lightning fried his metal leg, short circuiting it.

Ororo let the lightning fade after a moment, the whites of her eyes dying away. "Next time," she whispered venomously to the downed boy, "I hope it short circuits your brain."

Without another word, she stalked to the doors, the crowd of silent students parting for her with a wave of silence.

* * *

The tranquillizer dug deep into James's shoulder. As the red tufted needle was joined by another, all hell broke loose.

The agitated wolves immediately turned on the intruders, snarling in rage as a few raced to protect James, who was swaying on his knees, eye lids drooping.

"NOW JEAN!" Hank roared as he dropped the gun onto the forest floor, throwing a wolf away as it lunged at him with teeth bared.

As the attacking wolves were flung into the trees and bushes surrounding the den, Henry bounded forward towards the prone James, teeth bared in his own snarl as the grey female standing guard near James snarled lowly at him. As surprised yelps and snarls of pain echoed from the wolves, Henry lunged past another wolf who tried to snap at his leg as it was hoisted up into the air.

The grey female sprang at him.

Meeting her in mid-air, Henry's weight sent the she-wolf slamming into the ground, even as incredibly sharp teeth sank into his shoulder for his effort. Pushing down with all his weight on the female, Hank growled at her, and was rewarded with her ears flicking backwards in something that looked almost like surprise before another snarl echoed from the pinned female.

* * *

The blue furred one had _growled _at her! Her ears flicking back in surprise, Li'ah could barely contain the shocked look her muzzle adopted, before she narrowed her eyes and snarled at him.

_NO ONE GETS TO LO'RAHN! I **SWORE **BY FENRIS THAT NO ONE WOULD PUT THE HIVIL IN DANGER AND BY THE STAR-PACK I WILL KEEP THAT PROMISE!_

Locking her jaws around the blue furred one's arm, she was rewarded by another pained growl, and grim satisfaction flooded her brain. Operating on pure instinct, she tore her jaws away, and instead aimed for the blue furred one's throat.

* * *

Henry could do nothing to stop the she-wolf he had pinned from aiming for his throat. But he could do something about whether or not she reached her aim.

As sharp teeth inched closer to his neck, he twisted his arms, making the she-wolf yelp in surprise as she was flung onto her side. "Sorry about this," he muttered, "but I kind of need to take James home."  
A snarl was his only answer.

As the wolf attacked his wrist with savagery worthy of Sabertooth, Hank looked towards the gun loaded with tranquillizers he'd dropped. Biting his lip as the she-wolf drew blood, he resorted to telepathic messaging.

_**Jean!**_

_**Professor! **_

_**Jean... I- I need you to grab the gun behind you and shoot the wolf. **_

_**What! But I could-**_

_**It's full of tranquillizers! **_

_**But what if they-**_

_**Jean! It's the only way to get James out of here!**_

_**O-Okay...**_

* * *

James felt like he was drowning.

Around him, the world spun on an angle, shapes blurring together into meaningless blurs of colour and movement. Blinking to focus, his gaze landed on Rose- no, not Rose. Jean. Her name was Jean. _But she's Rose!_

As the world spun around him, the shapes formed figures. Figures he knew.

Terror clawing at his mind, James slid his eyes shut with a hoarse cry as the figures advanced, yelling at him, murmuring about him.

_Rose, with three neat puncture wounds in her stomach, skin cold and pale as her green eyes lost their spark..._

_Smitty, roaring in anger as Rose fell, brandishing his gun..._

_Victor, clawing at a fellow miner to protect him, but his image morphed into one of a sabertooth cat, roaring in anger and mindless rage..._

_His mother, father, staring at him in horror..._

_Cookie, leering over him, one hand reaching out to touch him..._

As fear consumed his senses and darkness claimed his vision, James opened his mouth-

-and screamed.

* * *

And that's another chapter done!

**STAR-PACK**: wolf belief that every wolf who dies becomes a member of the star-pack (ie. ancestors).

**FENRIS**: Wolf God


	22. Limp

Gently letting go of the limp she-wolf, Hank stared down apologetically as it's amber eyes slid closed, sleep claiming the wolf.

"I'm sorry," Jean panted, one hand holding the tranq gun tightly, "I-"

"It's okay Jean," Hank soothed, taking in the girl's pale skin and the nasty cut on her shin, "it's okay."

Looking around him, Hank saw feebly stirring wolves getting to their feet. Looking down at the she-wolf one more time, he sighed. "This was not how I wanted this to go."

Jean didn't reply, merely stared at something beyond his shoulder with wide eyes. Whipping around, Hank's own eyes went wide in shock.

James was writhing about, eyes tightly closed, mouth open in a silent scream. His dark hair had sticks and grass entangled in it, and for some reason Hank couldn't name, he was pale.

And he was having a seizure.

Jumping into action, Henry leaped towards him, scooping up the thrashing boy in his arms. As his fur came into contact with James's skin, the boy thrashed even more, a scream erupting from his throat.

A scream of terror.

Holding James still as possible, Henry held tight, as Jean rushed forward, freezing in horror as she saw James. "Professor..."

"Jean," Hank gasped out, as James shuddered in his arms, "grab the tranq gun."

Jean didn't move.

"NOW!"

Hank's cry made his body vibrate, and made the boy in his arms shudder once more, before going limp. Casting a worried look at the limp feral in his arms, Hank gently scooped the boy into his tighter, turning around and hurrying to meet Jean.

"We need to get to the mansion," he reported grimly, marching into the woods, "now."

* * *

Now, before any of you readers complain about this short chapter, I have done this for a reason. I have school camp coming up this week, and I won't be able to update, and so I wanted to leave you all on a nice little cliffhanger. Because I'm so nice. Please review!


	23. Terror

The door to the infirmary hissed open far too slowly for Hank's liking, as he stood, pale underneath his fur at the entrance, cradling a limp, unconscious James in his arms.

"Professor?" Jean asked, pale, a long scratch down her cheek seeping blood. "He's okay, isn't he?"

Hank didn't answer.

As the door retracted into the wall, Hank burst forward, walking swiftly towards the bed in the centre of the room as quickly as he dared, James's head resting limp against his chest. Easing the boy onto the bed, he released a sigh as he immediately looked for his equipment, ruffling sheaths of paper aside to find the items he needed.

"Professor?"

Looking up with a guilty start with a stethoscope in his hand at Jean's meek voice, he stared at her for a long moment before jumping into action. "Jean... I need you to go and alert the Professor. Bring him down here immediately."

"But is he-"

"Now Miss Grey! Go!"

Pale, Jean skittered away, the door hissing shut behind her.

Bending over his comatose patient, Hank pressed his fingers to James's neck, searching for a pulse. The slow and irregular beat that resounded underneath his fingertips felt like a blow to his heart each time James's heart hammered. Swallowing, his throat dry, Hank ripped his hand away before rushing for his equipment hurriedly.

Unaware of his situation, James drifted in his tormented dreams...

* * *

"_NO! PLEASE! Rose... Rose I... I didn't mean to-"  
_

_"You murdered me James."  
_

_"No... Rose... please."_

_Rose O'Hara stood before him as he knelt before her, blood slowly seeping from the three wounds in her chest, green eyes cold and unforgiving. "You **murdered **me James."_

_James stared up at her, amber-hazel eyes brimming with tears and regret. "Rose... P-Please..."_

_"YOU MURDERED ME JAMES!"_

_Panic entering his eyes, James whirled around, landing sprawled on his side as he raised terrified and equally angry eyes at his biological father, who towered above him, one bloody hand gripping the gun he'd shot John Howlett with, six clean, bloody holes in his chest gaping wide._

_Letting out a sound caught between a terrified whimper and an angry snarl, James scooted backwards, away from the image of Thomas Logan. Unsheathing his claws on an instinct he didn't understand and wished he didn't have to follow, he swiped them through the air at his father, snarling again as Thomas Logan laughed darkly._

"_Ya think that's gonna do me harm, boy? In case you've forgotten, lad, I'm already dead... Dead, by your hand."_

_James peeled his lips back in a silent warning snarl as Thomas took another step forward, sinister look changing to one of sudden and unexpected sorrow and love as he beheld his son. Sinking to his knees in front of a quietly growling James, one transparent hand reached out and brushed his son's cheek. "Ya look so much like Lizzy, son, it scares me." Withdrawing his hand after a moment, as James tried to sink his teeth into non-existent flesh, Thomas eyed him sadly before cold steel entered the man's eyes once more. "But, yer a freak, and yer not Lizzy."  
_

_A second later, James's head snapped sideways as a surprisingly, suddenly solid hand hit his cheek so hard it bruised. Crawling backwards, away from the barrage of hits, James's back hit something warm and solid behind him. As his father continued hitting him relentlessly, bruises blossoming on James's stomach and chest, a pain from a different source squeezed the teen's heart as he beheld the person standing behind him._

"_...Victor?"_

* * *

Before anybody gets up in arms about the lack of updates for the last... ? weeks, I apologise. I have just had no inspiration or longing to type or write and my head has not been in the writing game since Camp for some annoying reason. And again, I apologise. In fact, I apologise three times. But, anyway, I am going to try and find time and inspiration to update another chapter this weekend, and if not then, Monday next week.


	24. Worst Fears

Charles Xavier entered the infirmary with his wheelchair at full tilt, Jean Grey right by his side. As the doors hissed open and the two entered, his blue eyes were drawn towards the frantically working figure of Henry McCoy, who was leaning over James's bedside.

Sorrow and alarm flashing over the telepath's face, he turned his head to face Jean quietly. "I would like you to remain here for a moment Jean. But don't leave. I may require your help."

Jean nodded shakily, and wandered over to the wall, sliding down to the floor dazedly as the Professor left her side to approach the blue furred doctor. "Henry?"

Hank spared Charles a quick glance, before he returned to his task, taking James's vitals. "Charles."

"How is he?"

Henry gave a shuddered shrug. "His heart's still beating."

Paling, Charles shot the teen's slack face a fearful look. "Is he going to make it?"

"Goddamnit Charles! I don't even know what's _**wrong **_with him, let alone how to _**fix him**_." With a shuddering sigh, Hank closed his eyes painfully and said nothing for a long moment as the two men held a silent conversation.

After a moment, Hank opened his eyes again, turning slowly back to James and brushing his fingers over the scarred bite mark. "The only thing I can think of that could cause his condition medically speaking is the drug he was bitten with." His eyes met Charles's. "But even then, I'm not exactly sure how this drug works."

"You said medically speaking? What if it's psychological?"

Henry blinked. "I thought of that. That's why I called you down here. Can you read his mind, and try and talk to him? I mean, just maybe, it's possible his healing factor is reacting to his mental state, as far fetched as it may seem."

Charles brewed over the proposal in his mind for a moment as Hank went about his business, more slowly than before. In silence, James slept before them.

"It's worth a try," the telepath said after a moment's silence. "Jean?"

The young red head immediately snapped her head up, eyes wide. "Professor?"

"Come here."

As Jean walked over, Charles began to talk her through. "Jean, when I enter his mind, I want you to help. Hank will be monitoring his vitals, but I need you to be prepared to drag me out of his mind if need be."

"A psychic tether?" Jean's eyes went even wider. "Professor, I can't even properly read someone's mind yet!"

"Then this is your practice session. Keep a hold of the psychic link I make to you, and don't let go. **_Whatever_ **happens."

* * *

_**FLASH**_

_Opening his eyes, Charles Xavier found himself in the foyer hall of the grand 19th century mansion he'd seen before in James's mind. Turning on his astral spot, he took in the changed atmosphere of the mansion. _

_Instead of shadows, there was candlelight, and moonlight filtering in through the open front doors. The moonlight itself made the shadow of the man on the floor clearly visible- and Charles gazed in sympathy at the dead man on the floor._

_Casting his eyes around more, his gaze settled on the limp and inert form of a woman, presumably James's mother, whose lax hand laid nearby a shotgun. Her head had a messy hole blown through it. _

_**Suicide**, he thought sadly, **oh poor woman.**_

_James was nowhere to be seen. _

_Looking about again, his eyes fell onto the balcony, and with a will, he found himself standing above the room, looking down on the scene. The dead man and woman, the blood-stained floor, the open doors, the three holes in the wall-_

_The three holes in the wall?_

_Appearing near said wall, Charles shrewdly examined the marks, tracing them with his fingertips. _

_**This must have been where his mutation manifested. **_

"_You'd be correct there."_

_Whirling around, Charles came face to face with the transparent, flickering form of a man, a man whom he found to be very similar to Victor Creed. A man with six holes in his stomach. "...You shot him."_

_The man casually shot a look to the dead man on the floor, then grimaced. "He was takin' my son and Lizzy away. Had ta get them back."_

_"Except James got angry."_

_The man touched the wounds on his stomach slowly, nodding. "Quick temper, just like Lizzy." His eyes were unfocused, staring at the shadow of the dead woman. "Just like Lizzy..."_

_Without another word, he faded away, in exact conjunction with an ear splitting scream from upstairs. Shocked, Charles took a moment to respond, before he ran upstairs as fast as he was able to in his astral form. Running down the hallway, where the glowing light had been before in James's mind, he scanned for James himself- and found sheer terror as a static coating James's mind._

"_James!" he yelled, as he skidded to a halt outside a door, bursting inside-_

_-only for his mouth to fall open in shock and horror at the scene which met his eyes._

_James's worst fear._

_The hulking, wild haired man with the crazed eyes sniffed the air angrily, before the fur clad man extended long claw like fingernails and snarled ferociously. James was curled up at the man's feet, frozen and crying silently in terror._

_As long fangs stretched into a cruel grin, Charles swallowed._

_James's worst fear._

_Victor Creed- a completely **animal **Victor Creed._

"_Oh dear God."_

* * *

Another chapter up! I'm going to try and update more regularly, but I can't promise anything- best I'll probably manage is every two weeks. xD Anyway, please review!


	25. What Did You Do?

Pressing his fingers against Charles's pulse, Henry heaved a worried sigh as she recorded it's tempo. Like Jean's, it was rocketing higher with every minute they spent linked inside James's mind.

Casting a look to the boy himself, Hank reached out a hand and brushed his fingers over James's wrist.

"I wish I knew what was wrong with you," he murmured gently, before turning back to his work.

* * *

"_Leave the boy alone!"_

_The big man gave a cruel laugh, bending down with the grace of his namesake and gently gripping James's chin, forcing his younger brother to face him. "Heya Jimmy! Long time no see!"_

_A sob broke free of James's chest, and Victor Creed smirked evilly, elongated claws gently scraping his brother's jugular, one hand curling in dark hair to yank his head up, exposing his neck. "Funny... You smell..." Inhaling a long breath, he tested the scents with his nose, a grin forming on his face as cold black eyes focussed on Charles, standing helpless, watching on from the doorway. "... innocent." The smile faded, replaced by a blank look as he lowered his mouth next to James's ear, voice low and mocking. "Been a long time since you've smelt like this, Runt. If I didn't know better, I'd say yer scared."_

_Abruptly, he let go, yanking his hands away and standing, as James fell to the floor, breath coming in harsh gasps, but with no sobs echoing from his mouth. "I'm not scared of you!" His eyes flaring golden-brown, Charles could only look on as he got to his feet, baring his teeth at the vision of his brother. "You're not real!"_

_Sabretooth grinned, revealing long, sharp canine teeth. "Good," he growled back, "otherwise I'd be offended..."_

_His growl rolling into a snarl, he leapt forward as Charles cried out._

* * *

Spinning around as the cry echoed round the infirmary, Hank's eyes trained onto the Professor, whose head was tilted back, mouth open in shock, murmuring words he couldn't catch. Jean's face was the picture of concentration, and though pale, it was evident her psychic tether was still active by how she shivered minutely every now and then.

Glancing at his watch, Hank noted the time. _Three hours since he entered... what's taking them so long?  
_

* * *

_Charles lunged forward._

_And missed._

_Crying out as his arms went straight through James, he pulled back quickly, his eyes darting to meet a young pair of golden-brown. "Don't," James gasped, pulling himself back into a standing position, holding one hand against a bleeding chest wound, "I need to do this."_

_"James," Charles pleaded as Sabretooth advanced again, "let me help you."_

_"NO!" James shouted, whirling around to train golden eyes on Charles, his animal out for the first time. "NO! **I **have to do this!"_

_He said no more as he turned around and met Sabretooth mid-air, bare skin touching his astral brother's._

_Watching in amazement and fear, Charles saw the fearsome Sabretooth, murderer and rapist and villain, shrink. Within seconds, as the world tilted in slow motion, a young man of around nineteen crashed to the floor, James landing on top of him._

_Dark hair fell in front of James's eyes as he stared down at his brother, his **brother, ** not the animal he'd been dreaming about, and tears began to bead in his eyes. "Please, don't do this."_

_Victor's chest heaved against his own, and shock registered in ice blue eyes as one hand reached up, trying to touch his brother's cheek. "Jimmy...?"_

_There was a jerk._

_And Charles and James fell._

* * *

Waking up with a muffled gasp, James immediately, instinctively sought out any threats in the room. He found none.

Focussing instead on the form of the Professor by his bed side, he cautiously sat up, bracing his hands against the infirmary bed for support. "What was that?" he asked quietly, head spinning as his nose took in all the scents and people in the room.

Charles looked up from his lap to meet James's eyes, and he gave a small worried, yet proud smile. "You fought off a telepathic invasion of your mind all by yourself. Well done."

"Telepathic invasion?"

"Another telepath was in your mind, making you see and feel those emotions and your brother. What amazes me is the fact that you managed to fight off your brother and awaken his human side."

"That... that was actually Victor?" James felt terror and pain twist his gut. "He's... that, that thing?" The Professor said nothing, and James buried his head in his hands with a small cry as the truth sank in.

"But I believe there may be a way to change that James." Extending a hand, Charles gripped James's own tightly dragging it away from his face. "James, you managed to restore a small part of his humanity! He was human, the animal gone for one single moment! If you can do that again..."

James let out a frantic breath, shaking his head. "I can't! I-I don't know what I-"

"You can do it James, I promise you."

"James? Charles?" Both turned to face Hank, who was standing in the doorway, supporting Jean with one arm. "Could you continue this conversation later, perhaps? Charles, this young lady needs to know she did the right thing, and James, there is another young lady waiting to see you."

Ororo Munroe stepped out from behind Hank.

* * *

A ragged scream woke Victor Creed out of his mental stupor, and he jerked backwards reflexively as the captive mutant before him screamed and thrashed against the chains that held the young woman to the wall.

He felt... different.

"Jimmy?" he murmured softly, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness from his mind. "You there?"

A pair of strong hands pushed against his back, and a moment later he was dragged to his feet, an arm hooking around his shoulders. "Right here Vic," he heard James mutter, deep voice coming from the right, "yer fine now."

"Jimmy..." he moaned, hand reaching for his brother as his glazed eyes searched. "What did you do?"

James paused in walking, causing Victor to stumble in his own steps, and he felt James's eyes drill into his own, saw them through bleary vision. James's voice when he spoke was confused, worried. "Vic, what are ya talkin' about? I haven't done anything 'cept sit in this stink-hole while you get thrown into some poor bastard's mind."

"Jimmy," Victor repeated, eyes trained on his brother as one hand came up to touch James's cheek, "I saw... I saw you. It..."

James leant backwards, dragging Victor into a stable standing position, one hand resting on his brother's shoulder. "What?"

"It... It was _**your**_ mind."

James's shocked expression was the last thing Victor saw before darkness dragged him down.

* * *

Right, to everyone who's reading this story, I apologise for the lack of updates this last few months or however long it's been since I last updated it, but what with holidays here, I haven't been home often enough, and school was really hectic in the last days. So, this is really the first chance I've had.

This extra long chapter is my apology. Please review!


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